Scorpius Malfoy
by The World Is Silent Here
Summary: Introvert, un-childlike, sullen, silent. All perfect ways to describe this child. A child without childhood. Will his luck change when he goes to Hogwarts? Apparently not. Read to see why, and review so that I can improve. Rated for no particular reason.
1. A Psychological Review

This is my first fanfiction. Please go easy on the comments. What I need is guiding criticism, not raves about how out-of-character my characters are.

This fiction tells the story from Scorpius Malfoy's view of the world. Siding with what he felt, and describing his feelings as well as I can.

*

"Malfoy… isn't that that posh kid who lives in Malfoy Manor?" That is the response of the Muggle children when you ask them if they knew Scorpius Malfoy.

Posh kid, true. That was what they thought. But things aren't always what they seem. Scorpius was posh, but he was not like his parents. For one, they were stentorian personalities. Mr. Malfoy was an important businessman who garnered much respect in the wizard community, while Mrs. Malfoy was one of the most efficient judges the Ministry of Magic had ever had. She used a combination of kindness and cruelty to persuade the story out of convicts. He was a kind-hearted child who didn't like hurting others.

Another difference was the fact that he did not like mingling with the 'elite', or children his parents thought fit to hang out with him. They liked bullying others, and he didn't. Was he to blame for that?

His parents never took him to the seaside, to malls or to the parks. Their reason? Too many Muggles. Instead, they took him to drab wizarding party after drab wizarding party until he would have protested. But he didn't, because he was scared of his parents. They mistook it for obedience.

Scorpius had had a life without friends, holidays or ice cream. His parents home-schooled him – they wouldn't dare put him in a school full of Muggles. He was a child without childhood.

In appearance, he looked like a carbon copy of his father. The same thin pointed face, steel-grey eyes, silver-blonde hair and slender frame. He was also quite intelligent, but his parents wouldn't dare tell him that.

This forced submissiveness of his, this introvert behavior, resulted in the fact that his magic never showed. He'd almost given up and considered himself a squib till the letter came.

Then he was on cloud nine hundred and ninety nine; he was that happy.

*

That is all for now. If I get any positive reviews ('any' includes anonymous reviews) I'll continue the story. If I do not, I'll keep writing anyway. If you want to follow the storyline, do put this in your Story Alert list, as the name is likely to change later on.

Thank you for reading.


	2. Pointing Fingers

Second chapter up. Here I am skipping along to the part where he is leaving for Hogwarts because it makes no sense to keep trawling along paths we know only too well. He is naturally delighted to buy all his school uniforms and equipment, and now is actually going to the school he'd dreamt of all his life.

*

Scorpius stood on the platform, close to his parents. People of all heights, colors and ages swilled about him like sugar ants. He'd never seen so many people in one place in his entire life. He felt shy and insignificant. How would he ever come to know all these children?

Another thing that added another knot to the dread piling in his stomach was the fact that they all stared. Terribly. People pointed and whispered to their neighbors: "Look, that's the Malfoy kid. Did you know his father was a Death Eater?" His parents were oblivious to all this but he felt it most forcefully. Everybody despised him for who his parents were, and now they'd never give him a chance.

A little way away, a red-headed man pointed to him and then told his daughter something. He could very well guess what it was. The girls' pretty mother grumbled about something to her husband, mussing her daughters' hair as she did so. The girl laughed.

Scorpius wished they could be a family like them. They seemed so happy and nice, not uptight and snippy like his parents were. The girl glared at him, and he turned away, forcing down a rebellious tear.

"You'd better get up on the train, dear," said his mother, in the crisp voice she used for orders. "Find a good compartment, make some _suitable _friends. You know what I mean."

Scorpius nodded. It wasn't like he had a choice.

He stepped up the stairs and his father heaved the trunk up after him. "Have fun at Hogwarts, Scorpius," said he, in a decidedly kinder voice. "We'll send you letters regularly, and try not to get into trouble!" Scorpius said, "Yes, Father," and wheeled his trunk into the train. He searched for an empty compartment. As he passed by, everyone in the compartments stared at him. Derisive stares, almost questioning his right to be there. He looked in front of him and walked a little faster. Even if he couldn't see them, he could hear them. "That's Draco Malfoy's son." "He's probably a no-gooder, just like his father." They were labeling him as soon as they saw him.

He suddenly bumped into a second-year running down the aisle. He looked up fearfully and saw who it was. His heart sank almost immediately. It was James Potter.

"Look who we have here," he said. His voice had an unpleasant note to it. He caught Scorpius' arm with a vice-like grip.

"Let me go," said Scorpius, wriggling. People poked their heads out of their compartments to see what was going on. They kept watching.

"I'm not letting you go all that fast, Malfoy," snickered Potter. He suddenly put his face close to Scorpius' and hissed, "My little brother and my cousins are joining this year, Malfoy. Any funny business and you'll _pay._" He let him go and sauntered down the aisle, slapping high-fives and laughing to jokes. Scorpius stood there, rubbing his throbbing arm. He felt miserable. Not even five minutes into his trip to school – why the train hadn't even set off yet! – and he'd earned an enemy. He kept wheeling his trunk down the aisle, hoping to find an empty compartment before the tears leaked themselves out of his eyes. He didn't want to be caught _blubbering _in front of James Potter. He'd give him grief for the rest of the year.

Mercifully, there was an empty compartment just ahead. He went inside and scratched his head, wondering how on Earth he was going to get his trunk up on the luggage rack. A prefect looked in. His eyebrows went up when he registered who the first-year was, but he asked, "Need some help?"

He nodded. The prefect walked in, and heaved the trunk onto the rack. He then held out a hand. Scorpius shook it. "I'm Rook Deepwater, Gryffindor prefect," said the prefect, smiling at him. "Call me if you need any help." He walked away. Scorpius felt oddly happy. Someone had smiled at him. But he was a Gryffindor prefect. He would probably be in Slytherin, like the rest of his family, and with his luck the Slytherin prefect would be some bad-tempered bully whose sole aim in life seemed to be to make others miserable. He smiled sadly at the mental image this created, sat down and looked out at the bustling platform. At all those happy families. He looked back inside and sat there staring at the opposite seat and hoping that nobody would come into his compartment.

Worse luck, after a while, somebody did. And that somebody was very odd.

"Are these seats reserved?" asked she, looking in. Scorpius looked up from twiddling his thumbs. He was surprised to see none of the usual derision in the girl's eyes.

"Well?" she asked. "I can't wait here all day, you know."

"No, they aren't." The girl strolled in. She looked very odd. She was already in her school robes, but she still looked very odd. For one, she had dark blue hair. He blinked, and looked properly. It was still blue.

"Nice, isn't it?" asked the girl, tossing it. "It was the first sign of my magic." Nice? Unique, certainly, but it couldn't exactly be called nice…

Otherwise, she looked pretty normal. She had wheat-gold skin and ochre eyes. Definitely an odd combination, but it suited her somewhat.

"Name?" she asked, holding out a hand. "I am the one and only Blue des Jardins." The name suited her too. "Scorpius Malfoy," said the very same.

"Malfoy," she repeated. "That name is familiar." Surely she wasn't going to start jeering at him? Then she let out a low whistle. "No need to look so anxious. Your mother got mine out of a particularly sticky lawsuit." Oh. Finally. Someone who remembered Malfoy for something good they did.

*

I'll leave it here. Please do leave your comments, logged in or not. I don't mind.


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